


xeno

by Zekkass



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: A/B/O, AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's an alpha in an otherwise normal world and thinks his ruts are just one more way his body is betraying him, that his knot is a genetic defect, and that he's not just sick, he's sick <i>and</i> weird.</p><p>After all, how else is he supposed to explain why he's in Bucky's bed trying to rut against his leg?</p>
            </blockquote>





	xeno

**Author's Note:**

> Written for trope_bingo over at dreamwidth - and for legete. This is your fault, and you know it! (Unbetaed, I'm afraid - fingers crossed I caught all the typos.)

There's a soft whine and the feel of Steve's breath against his ear and Bucky thinks he must be still asleep. There's no chance Steve's in his bed, on his back - 

"Are you biting my neck?"

There's another one of those soft whines and Bucky can feel Steve's lips on his skin, touches he'd think of as kisses if only it weren't _Steve_ \- 

"Hey - "

There's finally a startled sound, a startled 'oh', and another, louder ' _oh_ ' and then Steve's scrambling off his bed and Bucky finally makes to sit up.

He catches Steve before he gets too far, and there's Steve on the edge of his bed, looking at him with wide scared eyes and a blush that makes Steve look like he's sunburnt (or sick, goes the part of Bucky's mind that's learned to watch for those signs in Steve) and Bucky needs to know what's going on. Now.

"Steve, what's going on?"

Steve covers his face with his free hand and muffles an apology. His breathing is funny, Bucky can't help but notice, but it's not asthma-funny, not yet, and he tugs on Steve's arm. "C'mere."

Steve almost immediately shakes his head, lowering his hand to look at Bucky, and there's something else, some detail he'd missed earlier: his pupils are dilated.

"Are you sick?" Bucky asks, but it's so clearly a yes that - 

"No," says Steve.

"Then what is it? Hey, c'mere."

Steve shakes his head again and doesn't budge.

"I'm not angry," Bucky tries, and in all fairness if this was Steve trying to come onto him he'd be the opposite of angry. But Steve looks sick, sick and scared and that's something else entirely. "What's wrong with you?"

"It just happens," Steve mutters. "I'll be okay in the morning."

"You haven't told me what 'it' is yet."

"Bucky, I," Steve swallows and shifts, almost squirming a little, and Bucky raises his eyebrows when he notices the bulge in Steve's underwear. "It's normal."

Normal, really. Maybe if Steve had been drinking. Bucky looks him up and down and shakes his head.

"Not for most folks, pal," Bucky points out, and Steve gives a little huff before looking at him.

"It's normal for _me_ ," he says, almost indignantly. "Sorry I came over here."

"You going to tell me exactly what it is anytime soon?" Bucky asks, not unreasonably.

Steve shakes his head once, twice, probably to clear his head, then nods. "I don't know what it's called. Ask me _later_. Can't think right now."

If Bucky didn't know better he'd think that Steve was drunk, or having a fever, but Steve's leaning towards him and he makes a decision to ask Steve the rest later.

"What helps?" He asks, pulling Steve back towards him so he can lean into him like it looks like he needs to, and Steve makes a soft sound in his throat before he all but plasters himself to Bucky. "That?"

"Sorry," Steve says, and his breath is speeding up again in a way that makes Bucky worry about him. "Sorry."

"Quit apologizin' and tell me what helps," Bucky insists.

"Wait it out," Steve says, pressing his forehead to Bucky's shoulder. "It always stops."

Like squeezing blood from a stone - "How long does it take to stop?"

"Takes a week," Steve answers. "I'm - I'm not always this bad, I've got it under control when it happens."

There's one big question Bucky will have to figure out for himself - how'd he miss _this_? But he doesn't ask it, not when Steve's shaking in his hold and making soft helpless sounds and whatever's going on with him Bucky has to help.

He rubs Steve's back, pretends that it's no different from all the times they've slept together for warmth in winter, rests a hand on the back of Steve's head and he murmurs: "We'll wait it out, Steve. That's the only way to make it stop, right?"

He feels the nod against his shoulder and that decides it. He'll sit there as long as he needs to.

\--

His resolve lasts half an hour. Half an hour of Steve twitching and breathing funny against his skin and refusing to talk but making plenty of weird little sounds that Bucky bets signal arousal.

Screw it, he thinks. He has to do something.

"Steve," he says, and is that a _whine_ he hears? "You sound like you're having sex."

Steve splutters, looking up at him with outrage, and Bucky laughs, just relieved to see something other than fear there.

"I'm not kidding! Sounds like you're - "

"Bucky!" Steve swats at him, and that's good, distracting him is working. Bucky grins, completely shameless. "I am _not_ \- "

"Try covering that up and telling me that again," he says, pointedly looking down, and that - that gets an unexpected response, because Steve makes a strangled sound and sways towards him, then jerks back and makes another break for it.

"Hey, hey hey hey - " Bucky moves, pinning him down. "Stay where I can keep an eye on you."

Steve makes a noise into the sheets and turns his head, and there's something new all over again: it sounds like a growl.

"Something wrong with my face?"

"Ah - " Steve's eyes clear, and he buries his face in the sheets again. "Sorry." Bucky can barely hear the mumble.

"You are all kinds of weird, Steve," Bucky murmurs. "I'm gonna let you up now. Don't fall off the bed."

They get back into a comfortable position, Bucky on his back with Steve all but plastered to his side. Steve's not all better, but the trembling is subsiding, and he's quiet this time.

"There's gotta be something I can do to help you," Bucky says.

"Just wait it out," Steve mumbles, and Bucky's not taking that this time.

"We could go to a doctor. Get some drugs."

"Can't afford it."

"Steve, I can take more hours - "

"No." Steve's got that stubborn set to his jaw, which means he's not going to budge for anything. "I can take a week of this."

"A week and you're not sick."

There's another funny growl, and Steve covers his face at the end of it.

They don't say anything; Bucky can take a hint.

\--

There's a feeling of fingers on his stomach, a light tickle that makes him twitch, and as he begins to wake up again he feels it pause, then continue.

He cracks an eye open and there's Steve under his arm, looking like he's half-asleep. There's light enough to see by, but it's still too early to really get up, and besides he's comfortable.

He watches Steve trace designs on his skin, almost smiles at the thought of Steve's itchy artist's fingers, and tries to figure out what Steve'd be drawing if he had a pen.

It's not long before the design reveals itself as a familiar one: Bucky has seen that before.

It's the same odd little sketch Steve likes to put down on scraps of paper and tuck around their home. A habit, Bucky knows, that Steve tries to pretend he doesn't have. He's played along like a good friend, and to this day he still doesn't know what it means, or why Steve felt he had to draw it on the wall in the kitchen. Just a little pencil sketch that Bucky almost didn't see except he spotted Steve drawing it, and - okay, if Steve wants to draw on the walls that's fine, but why would he be tracing it on _him_?

"Hey," he says. "What's that mean, anyways?"

Steve jerks and stares at him, finger still on his stomach, then pulls his hand back as if he's been touching ice. "I'm not doing anything."

"Isn't that the same symbol you drew on the wall, though?" Bucky asks, because he's had enough of Steve hiding things from him for one night.

"I didn't draw anything on - "

"Steve, I don't care that you did it, I just want to know what it means."

"I - I don't know what it means," Steve says, mumbling. He's looking away, flushed and embarrassed and yeah, he's lying.

"It can't be that bad, can it?"

Steve mutters, and something turns over in Bucky's brain.

The location of the little symbol-sketches. On the wall of their home. Tucked into Steve's things, once into Bucky's coat. And now a sketch on Bucky himself. If it weren't some abstract doodle he'd know what it was, but - what if.

He has to ask.

"Are you - " It's silly, but so is this whole thing - "Are you writing your _name_ on me?"

The way Steve turns red and doesn't look at him tells him everything.

"You _are_." Bucky lets out a laugh, more disbelieving than not. "Can't you just spell it out?"

Steve mumbles again and pokes Bucky's chest. "It's not my name."

"Then what is it?"

"It's just...mine?" Steve says.

"Yours."

"Yeah," Steve says, and he ducks his head again. "...Just makes me feel better to have it on my things," he says, and Bucky can't help but raise his eyebrows.

"Your things," he says, and watches as Steve presses his face to his arm.

"Can we do this later," he asks, and it's not a question, not really. Bucky can feel his breath going funny on his arm again, and as he watches Steve's hips begin to move against Bucky's leg, and is he - he is.

"Steve, what are you doing?" He asks, and Steve freezes before jerking back again, and something's wrong here, Bucky can tell.

"I wasn't, I didn't - "

"Calm down," Bucky catches his arm again. "It's not over yet, is it?"

"No," Steve says, miserable.

"Well, geez," Bucky says, and that's it, he's had it up to here with this. It's not weird, he tells himself. Steve's the weird one, and anyways he's helping.

He pulls Steve's underwear off and doesn't listen to Steve's squawks of protest until they're both naked in bed together, and _huh_. It's not like he's never seen Steve's cock before, but he hasn't really _looked_ at it, and is that - he has to stop and pull Steve's hands up so he can see.

"I'm just looking."

Steve's got a funny bulge at the base of his cock, one that's definitely not normal, and Bucky bets a million dollars it's related to this weird condition Steve's got right now.

"What's that?" He asks, and Steve's red from more than arousal right now, but he answers.

"It's _normal_ ," he spits out, hips moving in small jerky motions.

Bucky uh-huhs. Normal for Steve, maybe.

He lets go of one of Steve's wrists and reaches to prod at the bulge, curious. Steve flails at him, his hips jerk, and Bucky pokes at the bulge and discovers that it feels just like the rest of Steve's cock, which he pokes for comparison's sake.

"Bucky, what are you - "

Bucky just gives him a grin and gently pinches the bulge between finger and thumb, feeling it while keeping a sharp eye on Steve in case it turns out it hurts him, but no: instead he gasps and jerks and moans, and well, Bucky thinks, _whoops_.

Then: hell with it. Bucky takes Steve's cock in hand and gives him two firm strokes and watches Steve go from flailing to gripping at Bucky's hand and _moaning_.

He can justify this to himself in all kinds of ways, and Bucky might need to think about what he's doing later, but - later.

He slows his strokes, pulling Steve around to fit his chest to Steve's back and curls an arm around him.

"I'm going to keep going," he says, reaching to take him in hand again.

"Bucky," Steve says, breathless. He shifts in Bucky's hold, turning his head to look at him. "Are you - I - "

Bucky's not sure what he's asking, but he's not saying stop so he takes him in hand.

"It's to help," he says. "Just relax, Steve - I've got you."

Steve drops his head back against Bucky's shoulder and lets out a whine, no longer shifting in Bucky's hold, instead moving his hips in time with Bucky's strokes.

"Yess..." Steve says as Bucky speeds up, getting the hang of this - it's one thing to jack yourself off, and something else entirely to fit your fingers around a different cock, one that's different yet the same, and he's got Steve pressed to his chest and he never really _knew_ he could or would do this for Steve.

But hell, it's Steve. Steve's not gonna tell. Steve's not pushing him away, not like he ever would.

So he keeps stroking and pumping Steve, an arm curled securely around his too-small frame and his own erection is making itself known - Steve can probably feel it, but right now he's helping Steve out, and so he presses his lips to Steve's shoulder and rubs his thumb over Steve's tip, smearing pre-come as he does.

He should have done this the first time Steve woke him up, he thinks as Steve bucks and calls out.

Steve puts his hands over Bucky's forearm, hanging on as Bucky takes him over the edge.

For how little time it took to get Steve there, he takes forever to finish coming, head thrown back and body shuddering as Bucky slows his strokes, watching as Steve comes and _keeps_ coming, and even when he's done making a mess he's still keening into Bucky's ear, hips surging forward every few moments.

This is when Bucky notices that Steve's bulge is, well, bigger. He slides his hand down Steve's cock and touches it gingerly, surprised to find it a firm shape at the base of Steve's cock.

And Steve's still coming, even as Bucky fingers the bulge and wonders exactly what it is, or what it's for, and as Bucky begins to worry about him, that he won't stop, Steve finally begins to calm down - even if the bulge doesn't shrink back down, and there's a whole new worry, that it's stuck this way, this weird firm ball, and Bucky cups it gingerly, worried.

Steve just moans into his ear, a satisfied, happy sound, and Bucky raises his eyebrows.

"Like that, huh?"

"Mmhm," Steve mumbles, eyes half-lidded. "Don't let go?"

"I won't," Bucky says, wondering at this, but he keeps his hand cupped around the base of Steve's cock, and it's long, long minutes where they stay like that, Steve tucked up against Bucky, breathing calm at last.

He feels it when the bulge begins to go down, shrinking back to its original size, and he carefully lets go of Steve, lying him down on the bed and beginning to clean up their mess.

"I'll be in the bathroom," he says, and Steve makes some incoherent sleepy noise at him, but it sounds like he's happy, so Bucky takes the chance and ducks into the other room, washing himself up. He should bring a rag back, but okay. Okay. He just had his not-unattractive (if small) best friend have one hell of a long orgasm in his _lap_ , and Steve can wait for him to take care of himself before he comes back with a damp rag.

It doesn't take much to get him going, just some spit and the image of Steve's profile as he came, the breathy aroused sounds - that moment when he _growled_ at him - and Bucky's coming over his hand in a hot rush.

He leans against the sink for a moment, then cleans himself up and finally goes back to Steve, armed with rags, and Steve's sleeping, the jerk.

Bucky just shakes his head and cleans him up, patting Steve's hair before he dumps the rags and climbs back into bed, tucking up against Steve and intending to catch what sleep he can before he really needs to get up.

Steve curls up against him in his sleep, and he's not flushed anymore, just warm for once and breathing evenly, and that's all Bucky needs to see before he can sleep in peace.


End file.
